The Most Awful Family in Hollywood
by Beechwood0708
Summary: The movie deal with Faye Dunaway has worked out, so the Garibaldis are on their way to Hollywood.


Hola! I've had this waiting a while, and only just got round to posting it. I wanted to include the second chapter as well, but it's still not finished. Anyways, I love the Garibaldis, and that's all the inspiration I needed.

Disclaimer: All owned by Messers Chapman (he's still out there somewhere), Cleese, Gilliam, Idle, Jones and Palin. Even the OCs.

Sketch 1

An airport. Mrs Garibaldi, wearing a loose smock and carrying a large handbag, and Mr Garibaldi, pulling a trolley with three suitcases and wearing old brown trousers, a shirt that could have once been white and a stained jacket that makes him look like a hobo, approach the check-in. Around them, their twelve-year-old son Ralph, wearing torn shorts and a somewhat dirty jumper excitably runs into people and breaks things. A few metres behind is Valerie, twenty-five, wearing a denim miniskirt, knee-boots and a black boob tube and with a face like thunder, pulling another trolley which carries her sixteen-year-old brother Kevin, dressed in the grubby dungarees and t-shirt he may well have been wearing for the last few years, munching noisily from a nosebag filled with baked beans. They come to the check-in. Ralph jumps up to the terminal and the screen falls off.

Ralph: Umm… sorry Miss.

Woman (clearly irate): Never mind. Could you move onto the next terminal please? Can I see your passports? Thank you- Douglas, Ann and Ralph, Valerie, and Kevin.

Ralph: Mum, why don't I have my own passport?

Woman: And Kevin will be travelling in cargo, is that right?

Mr Garibaldi: Yes, that's right.

Woman: Okay, if you put your luggage on the belt please.

Ralph: Mum! Mum! Why don't I-

Mrs Garibaldi: Ralph, stay away from that conveyor.

Mr and Mrs Garibaldi and Valerie load up the luggage, then Mr Garibaldi and Valerie drag Kevin from his trolley and onto the conveyor belt. Mrs Garibaldi slaps a luggage sticker onto his bum.

Mrs Garibaldi: Valerie, fill up his nosebag.

Valerie takes an industry-sized tin of beans and empties it into Kevin's nosebag. He buries his face in, just about managing a muffled "Fnk you Vlerie".

Valerie: You're welcome.

The conveyor belt moves away.

Mrs Garibaldi: Bye Kevin!

Ralph: Mum! Mum! Mum!

Mrs Garibaldi: What?

Ralph: Why can't I have my own passport?

Mrs Garibaldi: Because you never go anywhere without me and your dad.

Ralph: But nor does Kevin and he's got his own.

Mrs Garibaldi: He's off in the cargo hold, ain't he?

Ralph: But he's still on the same flight.

Mrs Garibaldi: If he's old enough to smoke sixty a day he's having his own passport.

Ralph: But Kevin doesn't smoke sixty a day.

Mrs Garibaldi: I wish he would, it might cover up the smell of those farts. Now come on, you're holding up the queue.

The Garibaldis make their way to duty free. Ralph grabs his mother's arm again, almost sending her flying.

Ralph: Mum! Can I go in the photo machine?

Mrs Garibaldi: Ralph, why do you want to go in the photo machine?

Valerie: You'll break the camera.

Mr Garibaldi: Watch it, Valerie.

Valerie: He will though, he'll get in there and it'll explode or something. He might not even make it in there.

Mr Garibaldi: That's enough Valerie.

Mrs Garibaldi: She is right dear.

Ralph: Mum! Mum! Dad!

Mr Garibaldi: All right Ralph.

He gives Ralph some money and Ralph runs off to the photo machine. Mr and Mrs Garibaldi and Valerie sit down in silence for a few moments.

Valerie: Why did I have to come too?

Mrs Garibaldi: It was the premise of the film; "starring a genuine awful lower-middle-class British family including mouthy slutty grown-up daughter".

Valerie: Didn't you remember that I've got a life too? I could have been Junior Minister for Environmental Concerns by now.

Mr Garibaldi: But you're not so we'll leave it at that.

Valerie is about to argue, but the family is distracted by a loud explosion. Ralph is standing next to the burnt-out photo machine.

Ralph: My pictures haven't come out.

Mrs Garibaldi grabs him by the ear and pulls him away.

Mrs Garibaldi: Get away from there before anyone realises it was you.

She sits down and pulls him next to her.

Ralph: Mum, can I-

Mrs Garibaldi: No!

The sit in silence again.

Valerie: I'm gonna buy a magazine.

Ralph: Get me a Pepsi!

Valerie: No.

Valerie leaves. Ralph begins to fidget. He gets more and more restless, and falls through his seat. He looks up at Mrs Garibaldi.

Ralph: Sorry Mum.

She doesn't respond.

Ralph: It just happened, I…

Mrs Garibaldi: I know Ralph.

Valerie returns and sits next to her mother. She looks at the front of her magazine and drops it in her bag.

Ralph: What'd you get?

Valerie: "New Statesman".

Ralph (disappointed): Oh.

Valerie: I thought there might be some interesting articles about environmental concerns.

Mr Garibaldi: Let it go, Valerie.

Valerie: Oh, force me from my job and pull me from the country and you expect me to let it go.

No one answers. Silence.

Ralph: How long do we have to wait?

Mrs Garibaldi: Hour and a half.

Ralph's face drops.

Valerie: Why don't you go to sleep like you do at school?

Ralph: I don't sleep at school!

Valerie: Oh, have you gotten more interested in throwing things at that Chinese kid?

Mrs Garibaldi: You don't, do you Ralph?

Ralph: Course not!

Valerie: He does, I've seen him do it.

Mrs Garibaldi: When have you seen him do it?

Valerie: On one of my wasted publicity appearances, when I was interviewed by some kids. I walked past his classroom and I could see him sitting there and flinging things.

Ralph: I wasn't.

Mr Garibaldi: You alright, Ralph? Haven't seen you get this desperate since you were about to get punched by Richard Trotsky.

Mrs Garibaldi: I don't know, letting a boy that size do karate.

Valerie: I've met Richard Trotsky and he's a lovely kid. He wouldn't have touched Ralph if Ralph hadn't called him a communistic lefty twonk.

Ralph: I never said that!

Mrs Garibaldi: You'd better not have done.

Valerie: You bleedin' did! I heard you.

Ralph: But I didn't.

Valerie: You did.

Ralph: I know I didn't.

Valerie: Then you're bleedin' delusional.

Mr Garibaldi: Valerie- act your age! Ralph- act Valerie's age!

Valerie: Acting my own age, Dad, requires making independent decisions, such as what country I live in, and earning my way through my chosen career, like British politics. Unfortunately, that's not happening.

Ralph: Well, I'm looking forward to America. They don't have school uniforms. I could go to school in this.

Valerie: Not if you don't want your head kicking in, you won't.

Ralph: What's wrong with this?

Valerie: It's awful, that's what.

Ralph: Mum, will we have servants in America?

Mr Garibaldi: No Ralph, we won't be having servants.

Ralph: But there's loads of Mexicans and things who'll do anything for some money. Mum, we could get someone to do the ironing for you.

Mrs Garibaldi: I do the ironing, Ralph, it's all I ask. I don't interfere with the running of our house, all I ask is that I do the ironing.

Ralph: But we could get someone who wouldn't iron the telly Mum. Remember when you ironed the telly. And we couldn't watch anything and it was your fault.

Mrs Garibaldi: You'd better be going somewhere with this, young man.

Ralph: If we had a servant that wouldn't happen.

Mrs Garibaldi: We are not getting a servant, and that's that.

Valerie: I dunno, we could pick up a cheap nanny and then you'd never have to see Ralph again.

Mrs Garibaldi: Don't be so cynical, Valerie.

Valerie: I don't see why I should, I mean, he is unlikeable.

Mrs Garibaldi: I've told you before, Valerie, if you haven't got anything nice to say, talk about the Conservative Party.

Valerie: Touché.

Ralph: I'm gonna go and look at the planes taking off.

Mrs Garibaldi: No you're not.

Ralph: Aw, why not?

Mrs Garibaldi: Because you'll break something.

Ralph: I promise I won't.

Mrs Garibaldi: Last time you said that we still had a banister in the cellar.

Ralph: This time I'll be careful.

Mrs Garibaldi: You know you won't Ralph, like you didn't when I let you use the sewing machine. Look, you can see them from here and that's enough.

Ralph: You can't see them very well.

Mrs Garibaldi: I don't care, you're staying here.

Ralph: Mum, how do the engines work?

Mrs Garibaldi: Oh, now here's something I can talk about. Well basically…

Flash forward an hour or so. Mrs Garibaldi is finishing off her technical explanation, and Ralph is listening intently. He has been messing with his seat as he listened and has now pulled out a substantial amount of stuffing etc. Valerie is cooling herself down with a battery-operated fan and Mr Garibaldi is reading the back of a cereal box.

Mrs Garibaldi: …and that's what sustains the flight.

Ralph: Wow, thanks Mum.

Announcement: Flight 496 to Hollywood, come to Gate 6 please.

Mrs Garibaldi: Come on, that's us.

They get up and go to the metal detector. Mrs Garibaldi and Valerie get through, but when it comes to Ralph's turn the detector goes off.

Customs Official: Empty your pockets please.

Ralph removes a few items of stationary, a half-finished packet of chewing gum, a miniature voodoo doll, a novelty cocktail stirrer, and finally a large steel steak knife.

Mrs Garibaldi: Ralph, what on earth is that doing in your pocket?

Ralph: I wanted to see if they'd notice.

Customs Official: I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come to the office. (To Mr Garibaldi, who hurried through after Ralph) Are you the father?

Mr Garibaldi: Yes.

Customs Official: Then you'll have to come too.

They follow the customs official. He sidles up to Mrs Garibaldi.

Customs Official: Give me a fiver and I'll leave you alone with him for ten minutes with a truncheon.

Mrs Garibaldi: Well, I do need to get rid of the pounds. (She opens her purse) Oh no, used 'em all.

They disappear into the office.


End file.
